


The Graffer Plans

by MayStardust



Category: Raveleijn - Merkelbach/van Loon, efteling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, medieval setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayStardust/pseuds/MayStardust
Summary: Wouter is a proud guard working at the Belfort, until he discovers a dark secret that will change his life forever.





	1. Discovery

He wakes to darkness. An unusual darkness. There was little to no space, cold and hard walls pressing against his body. The sound of cogs creaking and the stinging smell of metal filled the void. He couldn’t see as there was no light, yet he was able to vision a forest right in front of him.

He called out for help, but the sound he heard that he made wasn’t human. A loud shriek followed by cranks rattling pierced the air.

It frightened the boy. He had no idea where he was.

* * *

 

Blades clashed, filling the cloudy day with their sounds. The training ground near the Belfort was rowdy as usual around this time. The men on the field had been training all morning, and now some got to rest. There was only one pair where all the focus was on. In the middle of the field stood Wouter, dueling with the man in front of him. A small group of Belfort guards, city guards, and soon-to-be Ravenbosch patrol guards stood around them as they watched the sparring session.

“My teacher told me once that even the strongest are bound to fail from time to time. So don’t think that beating me is impossible.” Wouter encouraged. “Come on, hit me with your best shot!”

The other charged, trying to find an opening, but none was given. He attacked, but was easily blocked by Wouter, making him lose his balance. In a swift move, he was swept off his feet and landed on the ground on his bum. When he tried to scramble up, the man was held back by the sword pointed towards him. Out of breath, he looked up towards his trainer that was at the other end of the blade. Wouter grinned.

“Well, on the other hand, it would be weird if you could beat me flawlessly. I am your instructor after all.” He winked as he held out his hand, helping up the other from the ground. “That will be it for today. Next time we will be working some more on defense. You are all dismissed.”

Without much ado, they all left the training area to get to the dining area to eat their lunch. Wouter bid anyone goodbye that was willing to look his way when scurrying off. Not everyone did, but the small amount that did was already enough for him. Their kindness was something that Wouter would’ve repaid during the next lesson, only was it difficult to recognize the people underneath the guard helmets. The masks covered most of their features, thus wrongly addressing some guards has happened a lot more than Wouter was proud of. Luckily for him, it wasn’t all too hard for the others to recognize him. A thin scar ran down through the right side of his lips that easily stood out from the other guards’ mostly untouched faces.  

The scar wasn’t something that bothered him, in fact, it only remembered him of fond memories. He acquired the scar when he was eighteen; a period in which his recklessness and confidence was at its max. As a young adult, Wouter had grown tall and thanks to all the training with his best friend, he got a better build than his chubby fifteen year old self. Other people his age had become very jealous of him and Wouter knew that, which boosted his ego and made him very cocky and confident. Unfortunately, that side of him got him in trouble a few times, but nothing too bad. Luckily Heim, his best friend, was there to save his ass most of the time.

Whenever he was training he always pushed himself to his limits to become better and stronger. When he was sparring with Heim, he couldn’t help but to be very extra with his moves to try to impress his friend. Thanks to that he managed to get himself cut through the lip with Heim’s blade during one of their sessions. Heim had blamed himself for it, but Wouter insisted that it was his own fault for being reckless.

His recklessness subdued since he joined the guards, but it wasn’t hard to miss his confident strut as he walked in public spaces. Who could blame him as he was in a position where he could use the skill he was best at, even if it meant wearing the somber and sort of ominous looking guard outfit. Despite hating the awful grey colours of his uniform, he wore it with pride. It was his first job ever, and he was good at it. If he told his younger self that he was going to spend his future protecting the county he wouldn’t believe it. Truthfully, Wouter didn’t even believe it now. Ravenbosch hadn’t done anything to anger another county of sorts to have them become their enemy.

When his stomach rumbled, Wouter looked at the big clock that was displayed on the Belfort Tower. He realized he had little time left to eat his lunch before starting his next patrolling shift. Not wanting to be on duty on an empty stomach, he quickly cleaned up the training area, and made way to the dining area right after.

* * *

 

With lunch passing by quickly, he soon found himself starting his next shift. Usually, his patrolling would occur in the evening, but not today. Not long ago he switched shifts with a patrol guard from the Belfort in order to have dinner again with his family. After all those days of eating alone on his shifts he had really been longing for a warm meal made by his sister. With the delicious taste of the fish and the warm company of his family in his mind, he could state that it was worth it.

Today, the guard wanted his turn of switching their shifts, and who was Wouter to say no to that. Returning the favor, Wouter was now walking around the Belfort keeping watch. Of course he took it as serious as his usual patrols, but he couldn’t help to take in his surroundings more than usual. The pretty objects standing in the halls or hanging on the walls were the only form of entertainment he had to keep him from snoozing off in a corner. Good thing that the job didn’t entail sitting all the time, or else he would’ve done just that.

Whenever Wouter passed his colleagues he greeted them, to which he only got a nod in response. His uniform was a tad different from the ones that resided inside the Belfort, but they payed him no heed nor did they question him. Aside from greeting other guards, nothing eventful happened.

About an hour into his shift, Wouter wound up in an area where everything was nothing but empty corridors. He hated it as there was nothing to look at, and it was also quiet since no one would even bother going to such a boring place.

That’s when Wouter spotted something from the corner of his eye. The door next to him was opened, showing someone hunched over at a desk in the room. The person was murmuring a bunch of stuff that sounded like gibberish. Not what you see everyday at the Belfort, but crazier things have happened. Wouter decided it wouldn’t hurt to greet them, but just as he approached the door the stranger turned around, glaring him up and down.

“Move along, guard. There's nothing to see here.” He said in a stern voice. The rudeness of some people around here was something that Wouter was already used to, but it was for the first time that he saw someone wearing… whatever that man was wearing. The gloomy grey colours matched the regular guard outfits, but judging by the type of clothing it wasn’t a guard from the city. Even if he was from outside the city, it was an uncommon design.

Guard or not, Wouter had to find out who this man was.

“My my, I was just passing by to see if we have no intruders. I have never seen you around, you new he-” The door slammed shut in front of his face before he could finish his sentence. He stood there for a second to inhale deeply. “...You are a new guard, right?”

“If you want to know so badly, why don't you just ask the Count? He will have the answer.” The person on the other side of the door answered.

Wouter pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. “Look, it’s my job to keep this city safe, that includes rounding up suspicious folk like you. If you truly do work here, then state your name and your function as a guard.”

“My function is none of your business!” The man practically shouted, but sounded muffled through the door. “The Count knows who I am and that’s all that matters. Ask him if you want to know more.”

Out of frustration, Wouter grabbed the top of his helmet while refraining the urge to groan. Usually he would give out more of a verbal protest, but in this situation, doing so wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Alright then.” Wouter backed away from the door. “See you around, Sir frown-face!”

Wouter walked off and turned the corner. There he leaned against the wall. As his duty, he has to keep an eye out for suspicious things, and that surely was suspicious. If they don't want to tell him who they are, then it's to him to find that out.

He'll stand here and wait for the stranger to move around so that he can follow him and collect information. It was a perfect plan until a loud yell was heard.

“Damnit!”

Wouter peeked the corner. The stranger opened the door and ran out with a speed so fast, it was as if the devil was on his tail. Confused, Wouter emerged from his hiding spot and walked down the hall. He stopped halfway as he knew it was impossible to catch up to him. There was no sight of the stranger anywhere in the distance. But as guard it should be his job to trail after the possible intruder.  

Honest to God, he would've done that, if it wasn't for the scent he picked up. That burning scent.

 _‘...Fire?’_ Wouter turned to the room the other had been in. There was no smoke, but he swore that something must've been on fire, why else the burning smell?

He stopped in the middle of the doorway. The room was very small compared to most rooms in the Belfort. It seemed to be a smaller storage room, with one window to light the place with. A wooden desk was just big enough to be put against the wall. On it laid scrolls and papers, but surprisingly no fire. Nothing was wrong with the room, nor damaged.

He could hear his best friend's voice over and over in his mind to not follow his curiosity, to back away now and leave it be… but man, it’s so hard to not give in.

 _‘One peek won’t hurt.’_ Wouter thought as he inched closer to the desk, looking at the words written on the papers.

There were a couple of lists that stated materials, the amount of steel on it almost blew Wouter’s mind. It couldn’t be swords, because as far as he knew they had more than enough of those now. Only one thing came into his mind that would need that much resources.     
“Must be for the Graffers then…” Wouter murmured under his breath. He wasn’t sure of course. He only heard rumours about said Graffers. They were supposed to be magic machines that could fend off the enemy, or at least that’s what he had been told.

Still, it was a very unusual name, a little bit weird even. The only thing the name reminded Wouter of was the Count’s last name; Grafhart. It most likely had something to do with that.   

Shaking his head, he pushed the material list away, revealing a list with names underneath. Wouter could judge from the naming that they were all young, as they were listed as ‘son of’, followed by their father’s last names. Hell, Wouter knew some of these people. Once they were sixteen, they were forced to work under the Count. He had seen it happen right in front of his eyes.

On one hand, he felt sorry for the boys. Without a say in it they have to work a job that they weren’t really signing up for. On the other hand, the more manpower the better in case they might have to fight in a war. They would learn how to defend themselves, all taught by yours truly.

 _‘But I’ve never seen them around here at all though.’_ Wouter realized.  If they needed training, then surely some of these kids must’ve been assigned to one of his trainings. Yet that never happened. It’s not that there were no other trainers out there, it was just weird that he hasn’t seen a single one after they were taken away from their family. Wouter was embarrassed for never realizing that before.  

With the subject being put in the back of his mind to deal with later, Wouter looked at the last pieces of paper that were presented on the table.

“What the-” He couldn’t believe his eyes. The papers showed drawings of huge machines, shaped in the form of some sort of long necked bird. They were taller than men, at least, that’s what the text next to it described.

It also said that this thing was titled with the name Graffer, something you wouldn’t really call such a monstrous looking thing.

 _‘So those are Graffers?’_ Wouter studied the drawings closer. Sadly enough, he didn’t understand half of what was portrayed on it. Not all too weird, as he never really showed interest in this kind of subject before.

However, there was one thing that did stood out that was easily to see. The middle part of the metal beast was hollow. How are they planning on making the thing move if it’s hollowed out? The only thing in there are some levers and the rest is just empty space. They had even drawn a person next to it to compare the size, and the hollow part was just big enough for a human.

“...Oh.” Then it all clicked. The materials. The drawings. _The list of people_. “Oh no.”

It was almost too much to stomach. The Count was planning on using these things for battle purposes. People, not even adults but kids, have to fight with those things in a cramped and dark place. No matter how useful it may be in battle, it’s not pleasant at all, and not a place for kids to be in.

“Step away from the desk!” A voice boomed behind him. Wouter remained hunched over the table, putting the papers down. He peeked over his shoulder, seeing the weird guard standing in the door opening. Due to the shock he seemed to have dropped his guard, as he hadn’t heard the stranger approach.

The guard had drawn his sword and pointed it at him. But that didn’t scare Wouter. He knew that when it came to battle, that he was the best at handling a sword. Slowly he faced back to the desk again, his hand reaching for his weapon.

“And don’t even think about drawing your sword.” The guard was right behind him, his blade poking him in the back. Wouter’s hands shot up and carefully he turned around. The man beckoned with his weapon to walk in front of him. With his hands still in the air, Wouter did what was expected from him. Fighting was pointless at the moment. He still needed answers.

Behind him he heard the sound of paper being folded, and soon after that the door closing.

“Is this going to protect Raveleijn? Are we really stuffing people inside those giant metal monsters like it isn’t a big deal?” He tried as they walked, but the stranger wouldn’t comply.

“Leave your questions for the Count.”

Wouter let out a huff, and picked up the pace. Anger started to boil inside of him.

“Oh, I sure _will_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo, May here.   
> So here it is, my oc story that I have been working on for some time now. It's been a long while since I have written something that makes me feel confident in my writing. Working on this has been nothing but a great experience, and I hope other people will enjoy reading this!
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this story, each comment is appreciated!


	2. Marked

When they entered the room, the Count was seated on his chair, seemingly deep in thought. His elbows were placed on the armrests, his fingers pressed together in front of his mouth. Only when the older guard closed the door did the Count notice them. Out of reflex he corrected his posture and cleared his throat. 

“What business do you have here?” He asked, annoyed at the abrupt intrusion. The guard grabbed Wouter’s arm and roughly dragged him forward. 

“This guard has seen the Graffer sketches, my lord.” He spoke as he bowed his head. The Count’s eyes widened at the news. 

“What?” Grafhart stood up immediately. “How much did he see?” 

“Well, uhhh…” Stammering, the guard scratched his neck. 

“Oh you know,” Wouter helped him out, so that he wouldn’t have to wait two more years until they could progress the conversation. “the material list, the list of names, and the paper where everything about these ‘Graffers’ are described on,  _ sir _ .” 

His last words almost spat out like venom. It alarmed the Count, to which he turned to the older guard and squinted his eyes. 

“Reyner…” The guard’s name got spoken threateningly. Reyner looked down and away, avoiding all eye-contact. 

“I’m very sorry, my lord. I turned my back away for one second and this nobody stuck his nose into your business.” 

Wouter rolled his eyes at Reyner’s wording of the situation.  _ ‘More like you ran away leaving the door wide open, and I investigated.’ _

Count Grafhart approached the two, waving dismissively at Reyner, who let his grip on Wouter falter. In response, Wouter shortly rubbed the spot on his arm, and took a step away from the man. In front of him, the Count had crossed his arms.  

“So you read about the Graffers…” 

“Yeah, I read enough to get the gist of it, and now I’m here to find out why you need to put kids inside these monstrous things.” 

For a moment, Grafhart stroked his chin while glancing Wouter up and down. 

“First, tell me your name.” He eventually spoke, clasping his own wrist behind his back, and stepped around him. Count Grafhart was circling around him like a vulture. Confused, Wouter shifted his gaze between the Count and Reyner. Neither of the two gave away their intention on what to achieve with this conversation, his leader looking rather composed compared to the temper against the other guard he had a second ago. 

“Wouter… Wouter van den Bosch.” He treaded carefully. Not knowing what the other was planning, Wouter decided that the best move was to comply anyways. 

“Your function?” The Count continued to question. 

“I train and teach swordfighting to new recruits, sir.” Just as Wouter began to get anxious of all the circling, the Count stopped. 

“Ah! Then you’ll surely understand the usefulness of the Graffers.” Grafhart turned to Reyner, and beckoned him to turn in the papers he was carrying. The other handed them over without a word. With a hand on his back, Grafhart lead Wouter to the table where he laid out the papers. Seeing the constructions made Wouter shiver again. His words still had Wouter confused.

“Usefulness? From what I see they look like death traps. Cruel torture devices!” 

“My best man, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood its true intention. These armoured machines help protect these children.” Count Grafhart rolled out the map of the county on the table, and pointed at it. “Due to the enemy pushing forward more and more these days, we need powerful troops on the front lines. Strong fighters aren’t created in one day, you’d know that as the best.” 

“That’s true…” Wouter murmured, hardly believing that Count Grafhart had a point there. 

“So having these inexperienced boys fight as Graffers is the best move we can make. Efficient use of manpower, and no fear over losing precious children of Ravenbosch.” 

He placed his hand on the younger guard’s shoulder, trying to come off as reassuring. In truth, Wouter was far from being reassured. 

“How are you sure that the people inside those things won’t get hurt?” 

“Because not a single weapon in the world is able to pierce that armour. These children are safer inside there fighting than with just a sword.” Grafhart puffed out his chest, showing pride in his indestructible creation. 

“I see the point you’re trying to make.” 

“I knew you were a smart one, Wouter. That’s why I want to make a proposition.” The hand moved from his shoulder to right in front of him. “Never speak of this to anyone and I will promote you, and raise your pay immensely.” 

A heavy silence fell over them. In the end, his leader praised a device into heaven, only to be told to keep it a secret. The man wasn’t to be trusted, that made for a quick decision to say no. However, it was hard to say what was going to happen to him once he denied the Count’s offer. Seeing his disadvantage, agreeing for now and going along with it to come up with a better plan would be the best idea. Wouter shifted on his feet, looked at the hand stretched out to him and back to the drawings on the table.  

“My lord, with this you’ve really convinced me…” Wouter had trailed off a bit, as he turned himself towards the man, starting to reach out for the other’s hand, only to pull away last second and to point accusingly at the Count. “that you have quite the silver tongue.” 

Grafhart took a step back at the sudden change of behaviour, his eyes widened and his mouth opened as if to say something. Wouter didn’t let him.

“And that you are a fraud!” He exclaimed for extra effect before continuing. 

“You make it sound like these Graffers are a good thing. If they truly were, then why so secretive about it? Kidnapping children with no explanation to why and where they’re going doesn’t seem like something you’re proud of. Or else you would’ve already told them.” 

“It’s not kidnapping. These boys are of age, and have a duty to protect Raveleijn.”

“These boys have no fighting nor battle experience whatsoever, and you expect them to do well against trained men right off the bat? Armour or not, it will scar them forever.” 

“Don’t underestimate them.” 

“No, don’t you underestimate  _ me _ .” Slapping his hand on his chest, Wouter almost growled out his words. Grafhart stepped closer. Despite lacking in height compared to Wouter, the sinister aura he radiated seemed to be overpowering the situation.

“I will offer you this one last time. Work alongside me to keep Ravenbosch safe, and you will be highly rewarded.” 

Wouter moved away, resisting the urge to shove the Count out of his space. His ruler’s ignorance made him furious. 

“Over my dead body! This isn’t protecting your people anymore, it’s enslaving them. You will never get away with this!” 

 

In a flash, Wouter had drawn his sword. He was going to get those papers and show them to the people of Raveleijn, exposing the Count’s evil-doing. That was the plan, and all he had to do was to make it a reality. 

The Count shook his head and motioned for the older guard. Reyner stepped in front of him, his falchion steady in his hands, but that didn’t make Wouter back off. Instead he held his ground when Reyner swung his blade towards him for the first attack. With ease he blocked it. Immediately after that he swung back, showing the guard that he was serious about this, giving him one final warning. The man didn’t back down, thus the battle began. 

Reyner lashed out. Wouter parried the blow by attacking back with more power, making the other stagger. He took his chance to pierce the blade towards his abdomen. Reyner managed to fend off the sword just in time. Both allowed themselves to recollect their stances. With his sword steady in front of him, Wouter shifted carefully, yet threateningly, to the side. Reyner followed his same moves on the opposite side. Eyes focused on each other’s movements, until something passed them by.  

In a hurry, Count Grafhart left the room, most likely to get reinforcement. That meant ending this fight as soon as possible since Wouter wasn’t planning on getting caught. Luckily, Wouter already had the perfect way to approach this planned in his mind. 

Focussing back on his opponent, he suddenly noticed a few things. The ends of Reyner’s beard were burned off.

“I see,” Wouter snorted. “So that’s why I smelled fire. You actually managed to set your beard on fire.” 

His comment wasn’t taken lightly. Furiously, Reyner charged. Wouter’s grin faltered immediately, barely failing to evade the strong jab into his direction. The moments to strike back began to get fewer and fewer, as Reyner’s attacks kept on raining in. His movements so frigid that even the pendant that was hidden under his clothes sprung out and dangled along his neck. Wouter found himself dodging and ducking every slice and sweep of the blade without getting to take a breath. Soon, the amount of attacks faltered, as Reyner managed to run out of steam. Both out of breath, they stood on their place.   

Reyner let out an airy laugh. “Is that all you got?” 

“Heh, of course not!” Wouter laughed back mockingly. “But it gave me the opportunity to do  _ this _ .” 

Standing at the right angle, Wouter made a dash for the table. There he rolled over it and managed to grab the papers. Without stopping he ran for the door, leaving Reyner cursing out loud behind him. Wouter’s satisfaction was short-lived. As soon as he opened the door, Reyner dived for his feet, managing to make Wouter topple over. The next moment they were wrestling on the ground. 

They kicked and punched each other since they both had dropped their swords during the fall. Reyner had his arms grasping tight around Wouter’s waist. To fend the older guard off, Wouter elbowed him in the face, gaining a couple of seconds to wurm out from underneath him. It was almost successful, until the other caught him off balance by dragging his legs back roughly.  

Wouter managed to turn around to lay on his back, only to see Reyner pin him down between his legs, his weight holding him down. From then on it was more of a push and slap fight, Wouter trying hard to not let the other guard overpower him. One of his attacks got evaded, giving Reyner the upper hand. He had Wouter’s head pressed to the ground. His palm was firmly put on the left side of his jawline. His other hand was holding the younger guard’s arm down, pinning it to its place. 

“This will silence you-” The man growled. The red gem of his pendant, which now dangled right in front of the younger guard’s eyes, brightened up.

What happened next was beyond Wouter’s imagination. Reyner’s hand began to become hotter and hotter with each second, so hot that it started to burn Wouter’s skin. The pain almost became unbearable. He let out a strangled yell while violently trying to wiggle out of the man’s grasp. It didn’t work. 

In panic, Wouter slapped his hand on the ground, in search of his sword. It couldn’t have gone far, that’s what he had hoped. Luck was on his side, as he felt the blade touch his hand. With a sharp inhale, Wouter snatched the blade off the ground. Without any hesitation, he stabbed Reyner in the abdomen. 

The man let out a cry, letting go of Wouter as he fixated on the sword piercing his body. Before Reyner had a chance to do something, Wouter pulled out the sword, leaving the guard screaming and gripping at the wound in pain.  

In the distance, fast approaching footsteps were heard. Wouter knew that he had to get out of here, but the wound on his face was still stinging, clouding his vision and mind. 

Two guards restrained him, while the other looked after Reyner. The guards soon realized that Wouter was in no state of resisting due to his wound, so one guard went to help the other guard carry Reyner to the infirmary. The guard watching over Wouter busied himself with tying his wrists together, giving one last strong pull on the rope to secure it. Someone approached them, a sinister aura growing stronger. 

“Van den Bosch, you are hereby banned from entering the city of Raveleijn.” The Count loomed over him. “That won’t mean you aren’t going to work for me anymore, no, you will be transferred to a new position far away from here.” 

“To the mines with him!” Count Grafhart commanded. The guard did what he was told, pulling the banned man from the ground, and led him away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you liked this chapter, I'm very proud of it ;)


End file.
